It wasn’t until what felt like forever had passed that he finally moved from the spot where he’d been kneeling—though he couldn’t quite remember when he’d fallen.

  Standing was harder than before.

  Even worse was walking.

  His legs lagged behind his already slow thoughts, causing him to fall flat at each attempt of movement.

  Jagged stone pierced his palms as he tried to stop his fall, shredding them further as his hands slipped in the slimy liquid, forcing horrible mouthfuls of it down his throat.

  He shivered at the memory, bile rising at the taste that was blotted out of his memory.

  He tried to convince himself it was a good thing—

  Tried.

  But it felt wrong. It was probably the worst taste of his life, yet he couldn’t remember it. Maybe one of the falls had done something to his head.

  At this point, he didn’t care as much as he thought he should.

  All he wanted was to—

  That wasn’t right.

  He couldn’t grasp his own thoughts.

  He tried again and again. But each time he felt he grasped the thought, it slipped through his hands like the ground under his feet.

  And the more he tried, the more fragments of his thoughts slipped away. Words, ideas, even intentions—they all felt stolen, snatched before he could fully reach them.

  Kai was panicking.

  Every breath felt too shallow, and his steps were off-kilter.

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  The air itself resisted filling his lungs, leaving him gasping for more.

  His mind itched with the memory of something he should do in response—but whenever he reached for it, it dissolved like smoke through his fingers.

  Weakness spread through his legs as the shattered pieces of his world crumbled. He knew nothing—truly nothing.

  Maybe that was a good thing, though?

  The best foundation came from unbroken land after all, there was no direction other than improvement as of now.

  Who was he fooling?

  Certainly not himself, Kai hated being a broken doll, tossed to the wind. Not even, he was just a hollow husk as of now…

  But that didn't matter.

  He needed a sanctuary that wouldn't be provided.

  So what?

  If he can't find it, he'll make it.

  It didn't matter if it was an injury that couldn't be recovered.

  Who decided that he couldn't recover from it?

  The universe?

  Bullshit.

  It was his decision to make.

  And he would recover.

  He focused on the absence of his sight, trying to will it back. Searching for something—anything—that could be reclaimed.

  Nothing.

  All that was there was a hollow pit, mocking his shattered mental state.

  Then he noticed them: strands, colorful and prismatic, floating just beyond his reach. They shimmered, beckoning.

  He reached for one.

  The moment he touched it, his fingertips digging into the stiff strand, reality itself split apart.

  Two worlds appeared before him: one almost perfectly orderly, the other almost perfectly chaotic. Two halves of the same whole.

  A pale, sickly man pierced an invisible border. A gate opened between the worlds.

  And then… something else.

  It had the shape of a human, but the face was ever-shifting. Sometimes pale, sometimes dark, sometimes stone. Features twisted endlessly, impossible to follow, giving him a migraine.

  Then a voice, almost recognizable but not at the same time.

  “This is your birthright.”

  Fuck his birthright. Matter of fact—

  Before he could finish the thought, darkness swallowed him.

  He woke again. Dread accompanied the awareness it brought

  Maybe he should just let whatever was out there devour him?

  It was tempting, at least.

  But he was too much of a coward to face death.

  So he opened his eyes.

  A tall ceiling loomed overhead, blotting out the sky. That was good—last time he looked at the sky, he lost his—

  Sight…

  He could see!

  Relief surged through him, sharp and overwhelming. Like he’d won the lottery—whatever that meant. Maybe someone could explain it. Maybe he could learn about his past.

  Wait.

  People.

  Where was everyone?

  If he’d woken up in a room he hadn’t been near before, someone must have carried him here, right?

  shooting upright, glee bubbling at the thought of other people, Kai stumbled as he tried to run—only for his legs to be yanked out from under him. He hit the ground hard.

  Something wrapped around his ankle.

  A chain.

  “Fuck."